Pure Fluff Well, Not Pure :P
by egg10rru
Summary: Bow and scrape in front of my insanely intuitive title! Two chapters, one from each of our two favorite boys' POVs, that are almost pure fluff, a major change on my part as I'm sure you are all aware. Rated M because of that little key word "almost."
1. Waking Up With My Cat

Okay, so I know I told some of you that I wouldn't be doing simultaneous stories so that I could put my all into the one that I'm currently writing, but this isn't gonna be long, just two little short chapters, and the second one's almost complete too. Plus, I'm a chapter ahead on Hide and Seek, so no biggie.

This is my major attempt at fluffiness that wouldn't stop attacking my brain. I'm actually surprised at how well it turned out.

~*~*~*~

Waking up with a cat is the best. It's my favorite way to start the day. You know about my precious, favorite cat, don't you? He's the best in the world. He's black and white, and a little moody, but he loves to cuddle and he's got such soft fur. He's so gentle most of the time, except when he's angry, when he hisses and ignores, and when he's in the mood to mate, when he tends to scratch. But I don't mind. He's also got the most adorable pout, and those eyes make it impossible to refuse him _**anything**_.

We don't even have to have sex to wake up together; sometimes he or I will come over just for a sleepover, like normal teens. (Should I mention my cat is a human?) Anyway, sex or not, we always still sleep the same way, snuggled together, sharing a pillow and body heat. He's usually on top of me when we sleep, because he weighs so little. He's so delicate, I'm afraid I'll crush him. He wraps himself on top of me like a blanket, even though he's usually the one absorbing my heat. But he makes me warm in my heart, which is the best kind of warmth there is, you know.

One of the cutest things in the whole world is when I get up in the morning to use the restroom and have to gently move him off of me. When I come back, he's usually curled up in the warm spot I vacated on the bed in the same pose as all of his own cats, which are snoozing in various places across the room. In fact, he's doing it right now, and it's so fucking cute that I can't resist.

I bend down and start kissing him awake. It's my favorite way to wake him up. It's early, but we have plans today, so he needs to wake up anyway. And if I wake him a little early, then we have time to cuddle and make out before we leave for the arcade. I promised I'd teach him DDR.

He shifts and moans softly against my lips, and I open my eyes to see his starting to peek open. He wakes slowly and sleepily, blinking adorably before he's fully come to his senses.

"Tory?" He whispers tiredly, because we did have sex last night and he's always tired when he doesn't get as much sleep as he's used to. "'Mm time is it?" He brings his hands up, fisted, and uses the backs to rub his eyes. I smile and kiss one of his "paws."

"It's eight. We're going to the arcade before the rush, remember?"

"But! They open at ten!" He protests, moaning upsetly and flopping his head back onto the pillow, curling up on his side. "And the bed's warm." He yawns.

"Just like a kitty," I chuckle, petting his soft "fur."

He hisses at me, because he's angry. When he's tired he doesn't do well with a pet name that he relates to sex. He closes his eyes, to ignore me, but I kiss him again, and he opens them, pouting adorably. "Go 'way," he sulks, but his eyes tell me what he really wants, and I can never refuse those eyes. Grinning, I reach out to scratch under his chin. He loves that, just like a real cat, but he'd never admit to it. "Noo," he moans, his eyes half-lidding in pleasure, and I take advantage of his open mouth to slip my tongue inside. "MM!" He protests, but I don't let up, kissing him soundly.

He jerks his head to the side, disconnecting our mouths. "We have morning breath," he hisses angrily, and I laugh.

"I don't mind." I kiss him again, licking at the little trail of saliva at the corner of his mouth to prove my point.

"But I do!" He retaliates, huffing.

"Sure you do," I respond, kissing his nose, then under his chin, then trail my lips lightly down his neck to lick a dark hickey, one of several I gave him last night. He moans involuntarily and wraps his arms around me for a tight hug.

"We should get ready to go," he says, and I sigh, knowing he's right, even if it is still a little early. It's better to be safe. We have to walk to the arcade, which will take a while, and we want to get there right as they open because from ten to eleven on Saturdays all the games are half price.

I get off the bed, helping him sit up at the same time, and start searching for my clothes. Still sleepy, he just yawns and bends to reach for his closest clothing, a pair of pants. On a sweet note, they're actually a pair of mine that he's become attached to. One Thursday we had no homework and were laying around bored, and I took a sharpie to my pant leg. When I was done, there was an intricate tree sprawling across the front of the left thigh (1). I'm a pretty good artist when it comes to elemental stuff. Unexpectedly he opened his mouth and said, "I want these."

Surprised, but happy that he liked it, I gave them to him. They're the kind that you can zip the bottom of the legs off to make them into shorts, and he wears them like that because the legs are too long for him. On him the shorts are still almost Capri's, which I think is cute.

Also, seeing him wear MY pants without wearing boxers turns me on.

We have time. I grin and press him back into the bed, kissing him firmly. A muffled protest meets my ears, but I ignore it, sliding my hands down his chest, playing with his nipples. He gasps into my mouth, but I'm nice and keep the kiss light, mindful this time of his aversion to frenching before we brush our teeth.

He tries to push me away, but his chest arches up harder than his hands push on my shoulders, so I know what he really wants. Chuckling into our kiss, I part our mouths and start trailing my lips after my hands, licking at one nipple and then sucking at it while I pinch and pebble the other. My free hand I bring down, and use my nails to scratch gently at his tummy. He giggles unwillingly even as he sifts his hands into my hair and tugs stimulatingly. I allow them to guide my head downward, and I lick repeatedly at his navel, not letting him lead me any further.

Through his laughter he protests that we need to get to the arcade, because he hates when I tickle him. In response, I dipped my fingers teasingly a few inches under his Capri's, then slide them out and grasp his shaft through the stiff fabric.

He moans loudly. "Are you sure you want to go?" I ask teasingly, feeling how hard he is rapidly getting, and he moans again in answer. "Make up your mind, kitty," I chuckle darkly, squeezing a little tighter.

He gasps out, "I'm _**not**_ a kitty!," too breathless to sound out the pout that I know is there. I lean in and kiss a sensitive nipple, and he mewls. I laugh at the sound that practically proves my point, and he scowls adorably, knowing it too.

I start moving my hand roughly up and down, and he sinks back into the bed, biting his lip against another mewl. I kiss his cute belly.

"Tory, stop it, I'm gonna cum my pants," he begs, covering his eyes and gritting his teeth.

I smile. "All you had to do was ask," I say, giving in to the plea in his voice and tugging his zipper down. I engulf his shaft and hear him whimper loudly above me. I know he's crying, because we wrecked his nerves and sleeping schedule last night by doing it three times. I know he can't handle it rough right now, like he usually likes, so I keep it gentle, no teeth. I caress the shaft with my tongue, wrapping it around and sliding it up and down. I suck on the head and run my hand down the shaft, thumb pressing into the vein, and gently squeeze the testicles, before taking the shaft into my mouth again. I use my hands to rub softly on his inner thighs, worshipping his cock with my mouth, and it isn't long before he cums, letting out a soft, almost silent scream while raking his nails over my back.

Swallowing, I lean up to kiss him again, using tongue this time because I know that he enjoys tasting himself. Then I pull away, and with a lingering brush of my fingers to his cheek, I stand to finish searching out my clothes, intending to let my erection subside since I don't think Colin's up to it at the moment.

So I'm surprised when he stands and pushes my waist, making me sit, and then slides to his knees to return the favor. I moan softly and appreciatively, smoothing my hand through his hair and letting my head tilt back, closing my eyes. Colin's pure magic with his tongue, which I tease him comes from grooming himself so often. When I did he had hissed that he bathes regularly and shaves so it's not like he has hair to keep smooth and so why the hell would he lick himself? And I had answered that that's fine, he can just lick me.

He hung up on me.

He's so cute when he's mad. And I'll never get him to realize what a cat mindset he has. Also, it's so hot that he shaves everything. I love his smooth legs.

This is about as far as my thought process gets before Colin sucks hard on my shaft and strokes my perineum, and my brain shuts down. I'm kind of drained from last night too, since the second time was a role reversal. I don't last very long, moaning Colin's name happily as I come into his mouth. Then we kiss again, because I probably enjoy the taste even more than Colin.

We get up to dress, and only after finding my shirt and staring at it do I realize that it's white. I didn't remember that, and it usually wouldn't matter, but I'm sure some of those scrapes over my spine are bleeding. That's confirmed when Colin kisses my back apologetically and walks into his closet for the biggest shirt he owns, a plain black T-shirt. I smile and accept it, and let him put some fresh aloe vera on the abrasions before I slip it over my head. Now he's wearing my clothes and I'm wearing his. I'm not really a romantic (yea, right, I _**totally**_ am) but the idea is just cute.

When the shirt is no longer obstructing my eyes I see that he's wearing a deep blue collared shirt to cover his hickeys, and has picked up his bell ribbon and is beginning to fasten it. I gave it to him once on a whim, a slim black ribbon with a little silver bell. He bitched about it being girly and how he _**wasn't**_ a cat the entire time he was tying it on like a choker. Actions speak louder than words.

I reach over and kiss his hair as I help him tie it into a little bow at the back of his neck, making sure it covers the one hickey that the shirt does not.

As much as he complains, the only place he doesn't wear the ribbon is at school. I love when he tries not to let me know how much he treasures the things I give him, and yet all along knows that I know him well enough to tell that he does. His denial is such a charming trait sometimes.

We both get our shoes on and head out the door. It's nine ten. We walk by a pet shop on the way, and I see a bunch of kittens in the window. Colin sighs next to me, and I know that he's metally scolding himself that he already has seven and doesn't need another. Personally I'm fine with just the one, because mine is the _**best in the world**_. No one's looking, so I discreetly kiss him on the cheek. He looks at me confused, and I just smile at him. God, I love my life. And _**God**_, I love my cat.

~*~*~*~

(1) - http://wulfmune DOT deviantart DOT com/art/space-between-us-74376113 It's Jen Lee Quick's original work for Off*Beat, just replace the DOTs with periods. That's the kind of tree I'm picturing, with all the detail in the bark.

Exchanging clothes is just cute! :3

Yeah, I wrote this in like a few hours and it just…yeah, I'm in a fluffy mood.


	2. Grass Ring

This chapter's not at all connected to the previous one, just wanted to write a fluffy one from Colin's perspective.

~*~*~*~

Tory and I spent the day separately, which is rare for us, on a Saturday when I'm in town. I don't even know why. It just happened. It's not important. Then we made plans to spend the night together, under the guise of a sleepover. What, did you think there was something wrong with me and Tory? No, of course not. I told you, the fact that we spent time _not_ together isn't important, even if it doesn't happen often. Moments away from Tory don't matter to me. I don't dwell on them.

Any way, I slept. I've been needing to catch up on that. Maybe that's why we didn't spend the day together. Oh well. I'm well rested so that we can stay up all night, and it's not like either of us doesn't enjoy sex enough that we practically _**crave**_ it. So that's good, you know, that I'm completely caught up on sleep.

Tory spent the day in the park, because Paul has finals, and without me around, Paul's really the only thing that can keep him amused, with their videogames. I like that most all of Tory's life is dedicated to me. Any way, without even Paul there to entertain him, Tory ended up in the park, because one can only spend so many hours playing videogames by oneself before finding oneself driven outdoors for some natural light and air. You are now caught up on the day's events. It's seven at night.

~*~*~*~

Tory and I are in my apartment. I'm lying on my bed, and Tory is on the floor with two cats in his lap. It's…I can't really describe how good it feels to have my cats all love Tory. It keeps me from doubting even in the slightest that Tory's meant for me. I'm half paying attention to what Tory is saying, and half trying to remember where we left our lube, because last time we were interrupted by the doctor coming upstairs while I was giving Tory head with anal stimulation, and we had had to frantically stop, and the lube had ended up…somewhere. The doctor's not home today.

"I was talking to a little girl in the park who was braiding crowns and necklaces for herself out of grass, and I asked how to make a ring. It took me a ton of tries, but I guess it turned out okay, and I thought you'd like it," Tory is saying to me, holding out the little circle of braided grass that he had made, with two strands green and one strand yellow.

Suddenly I come all back to myself, sitting up, concentrating on Tory. He holds it out, and I try it on, finding that it fits perfectly on my ring finger, a promise ring.

"…" I look at it for a moment, then stare up at Tory wordlessly. Suddenly I crawl off and yank Tory up, ignoring my complaining cats, and glomp my boyfriend onto the bed, pushing him down with my body and connecting our mouths for a passionate, almost desperate kiss. I taste him liberally, reaching down and sliding his shirt up. Then I break away and kiss at his chest, covering his mouth with one hand as he tries to formulate a question.

"I wanna do everything. Just lay back," I whisper huskily, not in the mood to talk about it, and Tory's eyes widen at the emotion in there. He smiles, I can feel it under my fingers. He probably knows that I'm so happy I'm about to cry. Shit, it's just a grass ring, he had probably thought that I would either laugh at him or think it was a cute gesture. He hadn't really expected it to make this much of an impact...I don't even know why it does. It just…does.

I lay on Tory, arms hugging the bigger male's waist, pressing desperate kisses into his stomach and rubbing my chest against the swelling cock through Tory's boxers and jeans.

He bends his neck forward and kisses my hair, a habit of his. He seems to like doing that a lot. "I still claim it within my rights to kiss every part of you that's within reach," he says to me, and I smile, leaning up for a chaste kiss. Then I continue what I was doing, and move an arm to massage Tory's crotch. He lets out a moan as I rub at his rapidly growing erection, and I shift to kiss and lick at one of his nipples.

Tory turns his head, keeping his "rights" and pressing kisses to my bicep. I then bring my other hand down to pinch at his wetted nipple and shift my mouth to the neglected one. I don't stay long at his nipple with my hand, moving it to rub circles into his stomach, and then suddenly yank back entirely, getting off the bed.

"Eh?" Tory voices, confused, and I simply respond "lube," as a flash of insight brought on by necessity causes me to remember where I had stashed the lube on the little shelf underneath my desk as I had scrambled to look as if I was studying. I crawl underneath to grab it, feeling Tory's appreciative gaze on my ass and hearing rustling sounds as he takes advantage of the pause to divest himself of clothing.

When I get up I set the lube on the bed and perfunctorily strip naked, already most of the way hard myself. I look at Tory's cock, standing at full mast, and lick my lips, picking up the lube and crawling on the bed between his legs.

Uncapping the lubrication, I hold Tory's shaft straight up with one hand and carefully pour lube on the tip, watching it run down. Setting the lube on the desk by the bed, I bend and lick a little off with the tip of my tongue, shivering in pleasure at the spicy cinnamon flavor, and then shape my mouth into an 'O', sliding up and down Tory's shaft a few times in order to spread the lube evenly. Then I let go, not wasting any time, licking the hot lube off my lips and smiling at his panting as I straddle his lap, holding his cock underneath me and pressing the tip to my hole.

"Shit, wait, Colin, we need to prep you," Tory says, his eyes widening, but I just shake my head.

"Don't want it," I say, starting to lower myself, and he lifts his hands to my hips in order to help guide me down. No. I support myself with my knees, slapping his hands and then pulling them up to my mouth for a kiss to each. Then I press them back into the mattress at his sides. He gets the point.

I hold him again and slide him into me a little faster than we usually do it, going straight down to the base without pausing. He looks at me in concern, but I just smile at him, taking deep breaths and relishing the feeling of his throbbing cock inside of me as well as the delicious lube-enhanced heat.

I glance down, seeing his hands fisted at his sides as he tries not to move them to wrap me in a hug. I smile apologetically. "Hold me."

He grins back and does so, and I wrap my arms around his neck, sighing into him. He slides a hand up to cup my cheek, and we share a soft, lingering kiss, then another, and another, growing quickly in passion. I start to rock on his lap, sliding my arms back to clutch at his shoulders for leverage and shifting so that I can use my knees to aid my movements, before I start raising and lowering my hips, riding slowly at first. I give Tory a look, and he drops his hands to his sides again, compensating by leaning in and kissing my temple, my cheek, my jaw, my neck. I smile a moment, then crane my head back a little so that he knows I'm going to move faster.

I start working up a rhythm, moving faster as quickly as I can, trying to get to the force that Tory usually uses on me, the way I love it. Very soon I'm slamming my hips down full force, impaling myself deliciously on his rock hard shaft, the both of us releasing moans and gasps of pleasure. But I can't get enough speed, gravity my enemy. Suddenly, Tory wraps his arms around me and slides his hips down so that he's lying more than leaning against the headboard, pulling me with him so that I can move faster and more easily.

The new position is stabbing Tory's hot cock into my prostate every time I slide down on him, and I gasp loudly, feeling myself getting closer to the edge rapidly. My eyes fly up to meet Tory's, and the depth of the emotion that I see in those beautiful green orbs as well as the brilliant smile on his face has the red-hot ember in the pit of my stomach rapidly uncoiling and speeding to my loins. He always knows what I want, what I need…

For the first time in my life, I come without being touched.

"TORY!" I scream, flinging my arms around his neck and clutching myself tightly to his chest, feeling my cum splashing between us. He tenses underneath me, moaning my name as well, emptying himself deep inside of me and holding himself there the way I like him to, knowing that I want to absorb his essence.

I gasp for breath, clinging to him like a lifeline. Letting out a choked sob, I revel in the way he explodes all of my emotions out of me at once and at the same time grounds me and keeps me feeling safe. I need him like I need the air I breathe. Sighing, sated, I relax into him, shifting my legs so that I'm lying on him without sliding off of his softening penis. I lean up and tilt my head, kissing him chastely.

He cups my cheek again, and I lift my own hand to hold his to my face, rubbing my cheek lightly against his palm. He holds my gaze, leaning down for another kiss, eyes open. "Have I ever told you how much I love you?" He whispers, and I start to tear up, blinking them back and squeezing his hand to my cheek. I love it every time he tells me those words.

"I love you too," I murmur. I feel a tiny burn where an edge of the grass that wasn't folded properly inward has given me a shallow papercut, but I don't care and I don't take it off. I love my ring. I love Tory.

Tory is…Tory is Tory. And he's amazing sometimes. I wonder what I did to end up this lucky, to end up across the street from the one person out of the six point six billion on this planet who is nice and funny and interesting and smart and can actually keep my attention (that's an understatement, I think about him constantly) and is all around perfect and on top of that _**actually cares about me**_. Are most people this lucky? No. Because they're pissed off at their lives. They always have something to complain about. Not me. I'm content.

I sigh, and Tory looks at me. I just shake my head and lean up to kiss him again. Why me? Not that I'm complaining.

~*~*~*~

Aaah, I was trying so damned hard to write him more in character! Did I do an okay job?


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